


Let Me Take Care of You

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Barebacking, F/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Parent/Child Incest, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, implied Dean/Sam - Freeform, implied Sam/Mary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 10:05:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9175780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Dean feels betrayed by Mary's abandonment. So when she sneaks back into the bunker he's not pleased to say the least. But Mary wants to take care of her son and is willing to do so in any way possible.





	

"Did you really think you could sneak in here without someone noticing?" Dean snarled into her ear. The blade of the demon killing knife pressed against her pale slender throat, seeking that ever so important artery. 

 

"Dean - it's me," Mary whispered, holding her hands up. 

 

Dean's hand curled tighter around her waist. "I know exactly who it is. So, tell me, _Mom_. Why do you think it’s okay to leave Sam and me high and dry and then come back, _sneaking_ around our home? Huh?”

 

Mary swallowed hard enough that her throat clicked. “I didn’t mean to sneak. I didn’t think you boys were awake. I needed a book and I thought the library would have it. Please, Dean – I’m your mother.”

 

“I’m questioning that.”

 

“What?”

 

Dean whipped Mary around and pushed her back to the wall, pressing his body against her to pin her. The knife was placed back against her throat, glinting in the low light given by the single lamp.

 

“A mother wouldn’t abandon her children because things were _tough_. She wouldn’t say she loved them then run out when they needed her the most. I needed you, Mom. _Sam_ needed you. And you ran out on us. Just like Dad used to. Just like _everyone_. You all _leave_.”

 

“Dean, you know that’s not true.”

 

“Yes it is.” Dean hung his head, still holding the weapon to her throat. He sniffled once, the only sign of any emotion besides fury.

 

“Dean, I’m sorry… I didn’t think—“

 

“No, you didn’t.” Dean whipped his head back up. “You didn’t think back when you made that deal with Azazel. You didn’t think when you kept the truth from Dad. You didn’t think about anyone but _yourself_. Your own safety and happiness. Fuck your husband. Fuck your children. Well fuck you, Mom. I—I’m done idolizing someone who caused my family so much pain.” He shoved away from her and stalked toward the hallway.

 

“Dean, wait!” She called, chasing after him.

 

He stopped in the doorway and turned. “Get the book you need and make your notes. Do not remove it from our library. Then get out. I don’t want to see you again.”

 

She shook her head. “No, Dean. I made a mistake. Please don’t cut me out.”

 

“You’re asking _me_ not to cut _you_ out? Are you kidding? You cut _us_ out!”

  
“Don’t yell – You’re going to wake up Sam,” Mary said softly, approaching Dean like he was an angry dog.

 

“You’re right. I wouldn’t want to wake him up. I don’t need to see the hurt on his face when you leave us again.”

 

“Dean, please.” She reached him and put her hands on his cheeks, gently running her thumbs over his cheekbones. Much to her surprise, he didn’t pull away. “I don’t want to cut you boys out, I just… I need some time.”

 

“Mom, we could’ve given you time. You didn’t have to leave,” Dean’s voice was soft, aggression gone from it, replaced with a deep sadness.

 

Mary pulled his head down toward her, hugging him tightly. She rested her nose in the curve of his neck, taken aback by how much he felt like John when John was this age. He even smelled like him.

 

She cleared her throat and backed up quickly, shocked at the clenching in her stomach. This was her _son_. That was just wrong.

 

Dean scowled a little at her sudden withdrawal, his eyes wet with unshed tears. “I guess you got your book to find,” He said softly.

 

“No – Dean, I—“ She sighed softly. “I’m sorry for leaving you boys. Can we sit? Talk?”

 

“I don’t think there’s too much left to talk about,” Dean admitted, setting the knife on the nearby table.

 

“Then just sit with me a while. I – I’ll talk.”

 

Dean lowered his gaze but nodded, allowing Mary to take his wrist and lead him over to the loveseat in the library. They sat close together, knees touching.

 

“How have you and Sam been?”

 

“Good, just hunting. Trying to – keep ourselves alive, you know.”

 

She laughed without much humor. “The life of a hunter. I have thought about you boys a lot you know. Since I left.”

 

“Yeah?” Dean looked over, their faces inches apart as Mary smiled.

 

“You look so much like John. I never noticed before.”

 

Dean snorted, running his hand over his cheek. “I guess so. I never noticed.”

 

“You do.” She reached up, running the tips of her fingers over his cheek. “You have his jaw structure and cheekbones… And his ears,” Her fingers ran up brushing over a tender spot behind his ear.

 

It had always made John go crazy – and if the way Dean nearly melted against her side was any indication – that erogenous zone was genetic.

 

Mary pulled her hand away quickly, taking a shaky breath. “You just look a lot like him. Sound a bit like him too. I always pictured your adult voice as a little softer, but I guess it makes sense.”

 

“Hunting. Always yelling at Sam,” Dean joked, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled. John’s used to do that.

 

“You’re a good paren—Uh, brother. To Sam.”

 

“Might as well have been his parent sometimes,” Dean joked. “I damn near raised him when Dad was off hunting.”

 

She nodded, reaching out and brushing her fingers over the nape of Dean’s neck almost absently. The baby hair there was softly and smooth. She didn’t miss the goosebumps that followed in her fingers’ wake.

 

“Mom?”

 

She met Dean’s gaze, drawing in a quick breath at the look in his eyes. She’d never seen that look from Dean before. But she’d seen it on John – or at least a look similar. Surely they couldn’t mean the same thing.

 

“Dean, what—“

 

“I’m so sorry, Mom,” Dean whispered. He closed the gap between their mouths quickly, pressing his lips to hers in a kiss that wasn’t entirely gentle.

 

Mary gasped. _Pull back. Pull away. This is your son_. Her mind screamed, but she found her fingers buried in the folds of his shirt instead, dragging him closer to her. His lips felt like John’s.

 

His tongue darted out, brushing her bottom lip before pushing past, tangling with hers. He _tasted_ like John.

 

Before Mary really knew what was happening she was on her back on the loveseat, Dean settled between her thighs. The kiss was deeper now – full of intent that shouldn’t be there. His hands were dragging up her sides, lifting her shirt to touch the soft skin of her sides. Those callused hands, under her shirt now, kneading her breasts through her bra. Those felt like John’s too. But they weren’t, they weren’t her husband’s.

 

“Dean,” Mary gasped, breaking the kiss and the spell – it seemed.

 

Dean jumped back one hand going to his mouth, the other dropping in a weak attempt to cover his crotch, his jeans bulging with his erection.

 

“Shit, Mom – I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into me.”

 

Mary sat up slowly, short of breath. It had been too long since someone had touched her that way. Before her death, she and John hadn’t made love much after she started showing with Sam. And of course, since her return – she’d been too busy hunting and trying to figure out this new world to even consider finding someone to sleep with.

  
And God that had felt good. Dean’s mouth, hot and wet against her own, the feel of his hands squeezing and kneading, and his cock pressed hard against her thigh, even through two layers of denim she knew he’d inherited his father’s size.

 

“Don’t be sorry. No shame in needing something.”

 

Dean looked over quickly, surprise written on his face. “But you’re my Mom. You – You gave birth to me.”

 

“And the you I know is still four. You’re my son, but… It feels different. Doesn’t it to you?”

 

Dean swallowed, his throat clicking audibly in the quiet room. “No. You’re still Mom to me. But I like that.”

 

Mary squeezed her thighs together as a fresh gush of wet soaked her panties further. That was much sexier than it should have been. “You like the idea of having sex with you mother?”

 

Dean’s lips parted, shining damp in the low light. “I—I guess so.”

 

She didn’t know what she was doing. She knew she probably _shouldn’t_ be doing it, but that voice was easy enough to silence. She took Dean’s hand and moved close to him again, bringing it up to her chest. Mary could feel him shaking as she pressed his wide palm over her breast, her gaze locking with his. “I wasn’t there when you needed me for thirty years. Let me be there for you now.”

 

“Mom—“

 

“You might feel better if you call me Mary?”

 

Dean let his hand close a little, squeezing her breast a bit before answering. “No, Mom is just fine.”

 

Before Mary could answer, he’d pushed close to her again, dragging her into a lying position. The one hand remained on her breast, squeezing it and sliding his palm over it outside her shirt. His other hand found the button of her jeans, working it open and slipping his hand into her panties with ease.

 

They both gasped when his fingers found her slick folds. He looked down at her, mouth open. “You’re soaking wet,” He commented and Mary blushed.

 

“I didn’t say I wasn’t turned on by the idea, did I?” She replied with a shrug, trying to act nonchalant about it.

 

Dean laughed a little, slipping his hand in further and allowing his first finger to sink into her wet center. "Fuck, Mom - you're tight as hell."

 

Mary moaned, tossing her head back. Even his fingers were similar to John's. "Been a long time since I had anything but my own fingers, sweetie."

 

"We should fix that," Dean said. He frees his hand from her jeans lowered himself down. "You know you can stop me any time," he clarified.

 

Mary smiled softly, running her fingers through his hair. "I know. You're a good boy."

 

Despite their argument earlier, Dean felt himself swell at her compliment, the proud son. He tugged her jeans over her broad hips.

 

Mary did her best to help, kicking out of her boots and lifting herself up to help him pull the jeans off. She felt a surge of pride at her son; it was clear he was horny as hell, but he was moving carefully, savoring this first stripping down.

 

He tugged Mary up, helping her out of her coat and shirt next, brushing his lips over the curve of her neck and shoulder. When she was in nothing but her worn white bra and cotton panties, Dean stepped back, admiring her from head to toe.

 

"You're gorgeous, Mom," he whispered, palming his cock through his jeans.

 

Mary smiled, slightly self conscious under his gaze, but proud of how aroused he was just from touching and looking at her.

 

"Lay down for me," Dean said. He approached her as she stretched out on the bed, spreading her thighs so he could settle between them.

 

Dean moaned audibly when he did, running his knuckles over the wet fabric. He grabbed the hem and tugged, looking into Mary's eyes as he pulled them down, allowing her to pull her legs up to drag them off. He tossed them aside and pushed her knees open again, lowering himself down.

 

Mary couldn't stop the string of curses that left her mouth when Dean spread her open and began to eat her out. His tongue curled and flipped into her hole and up over her clit. He used his fingers only when needed, pressing and squeezing and pinching at perfect intervals. Sucking, licking biting; this was something Mary could truthfully say Dean did better than his father ever had.

 

Her fingers dug into Dean's scalp as he brought her to the edge of her orgasm over and over, stopping just long enough to make the feeling fade again and again. Mary sobbed his name, her cheeks burning at the sloppy wet sounds of Dean driving his tongue and fingers into her pussy.

 

He pulled back after nearly twenty minutes of edging, lips and chin wet. Mary's legs were quivering against the sides of his head, her breath coming in quick bursts.

 

"You okay?" He whispered, short of breath himself.

 

"Please, Dean - let me come," she pleaded, arching her hips weakly.

 

"Of course, I was just making sure it was good for you. You said it's been a while."

 

"Too long - but please, I'm about to explode, baby boy."

 

Dean grinned then. "Just relax, Mom. I'll make it feel good." He sunk back down between her legs and Mary screamed.

 

She squirted for the first time in her life on her son's tongue and fingers, moaning his name over and over.

 

He didn't stop then either. Dean moved up, kissing her hard. She could taste herself on his tongue as he continued to fuck her with three fingers, his thumb rubbing and pressing her clit.

 

"Please, Dean," she panted, breaking the kiss.

 

"No, Mom - you can come again, I know you can. Just relax, let yourself enjoy it. Come for me again then I'll fuck you."

 

Mary whimpered, relaxing as best she could. Her fingers dug into Dean's arm as he fingered her.

 

He wasn't wrong. Mary came again, her back arching off the couch as she came, squirting again and screaming Dean's name.

 

She barely heard Dean until he spoke, "Never imagined you were a squirter. So pretty like this."

 

"Please, Dean - Please get inside me," she panted, reaching down to palm his cock through his jeans.

 

Dean slowed his hand down until he could pull out without surprising her. "You sure?"

 

Mary nodded, looking up at him. "Please."

 

"I gotta go grab a condom."

 

"Are you clean?"

 

Dean chuckled and nodded. "Of course."

 

"Then just go bare. I've had two children, baby. I know when I'm fertile. We should be safe."

 

"Really?" Dean's eyes went wide at the idea of fucking her bare. She nodded.

 

"I'm sure. But last I checked - you're gonna need to get naked to get inside me, Dean."

 

His cheeks pinked and he nodded, scrambling off the couch. He stripped down nude, blushing darker when he realized Mary's eyes were roaming over his nude body.

 

"You're so handsome, honey. You grew up beautiful."

 

He smiled shyly, struggling not to cover himself.

 

"Come on, Dean. You promised to make me feel good."

 

"Yes, Mom," he whispered, crawling over her. They kissed for a moment, Dean gasping into Mary's mouth when she wrapped her fingers around his cock and gave it a loose stroke.

 

He let her guide his cock down, brushing his tip over her wet folds.

 

"Ready?" He asked, taking it in his own hand.

 

"Always," she assured him, arching her hips up a little.

 

Dean took one shaky breath before sliding his cock easily into her dripping pussy.

 

"So fucking tight, Mom," Dean groaned, rolling his hips once he was settled as deep as he could go inside her. He rested his forehead on her shoulder, trying to remain still and let her adjust.

 

Mary's legs curled around his hips, slowly grinding down onto the thick cock splitting her open. "You're bigger than your father, you know," she whispered.

 

Dean's cock throbbed inside her. "Yeah? Think I can make you come harder?" He whispered.

 

Mary gasped at his words, clenching around him. "You already did. John never made me squirt."

 

"Let's see if I can do it again." Dean dragged his cock out slow and teasing before slamming back in, grinning when she shouted, arching under him.

 

He picked up a steady pace, pulling out slow and driving back in hard and fast. Mary was writhing under him, rutting her hips against his. She cried his name over and over, her nails leaving long scratches along his freckled back.

 

Dean was grunting softly against her shoulder, one hand in her hair, the other gripping her hip, guiding her onto his cock. "I'm getting close, Mom - goddamnit, I can't..." he panted, embarrassed that it'd only been a few minutes.

 

Mary stroked back his sweat damp hair, kissing his shoulder. "It's okay, come on, baby boy. You come for your Mommy."

 

Dean moaned loud at that, pumping his hips faster. He shifted his torso up, reaching between them and rubbing her clit, determined to make her come again.

 

And if the look on Mary's face was any indication - he was going to succeed in that mission.

 

Mary tossed her head back, Dean's name spilling from her lips as she came, her pussy clamping down on his thrusting cock as she gushed around it, soaking the leather underneath her hips.

 

Dean groaned against her chest. He pumped his hips twice more before stilling, releasing deep inside her.

 

Mary stroked her hands through his hair soothingly as he came, shivering and groaning for her. She looked up, gasping loudly. "Sam!"

 

Dean lifted his head tiredly and looked back, seeing Sam standing in the doorway, gaping at them. "Heya, Sammy. Did we wake you?"

 

Sam nodded slowly.

 

Dean's gaze dragged down Sam's body to where the front of his sleep pants were tented. "You little pervert."

 

Sam blushed, trying to cover his erection as Mary giggled. Dean looked down at her, slowly pulling his spent cock out of her pussy. A gush of come and her own fluids followed after.

 

"Whatcha say, Sammy? Want a go? She's all ready if you do."

 

Mary's eyes widened and Dean grinned at her. "If you want it, of course. Sam and I share all the time. Part of growing up as close as we did. And Mom... His cock's even bigger than mine."

 

Mary looked over Sam, who looked absolutely mortified. "Well, I suppose it wouldn't be fair... Come here, baby."

 

Dean climbed off Mary and walked over to Sam, whispering in his ear for a moment. Whatever he said made Sam's cock jump in his pants.

 

Sam nodded and walked over to Mary, leaning down and pressing a kiss to her mouth. As he did, he slipped his hand over her stomach and down, dipping two fingers into her used hole, earning a soft moan from Mary.

 

Dean smacked Sam's ass before taking a seat on the arm of the loveseat. Tonight was turning out to be _really_ fun.

 


End file.
